Guys Bein' Dudes
by Kiba Sniper
Summary: Mikhail comes across a very strange sight in the Advanced Kids' cabin.


this is a fic for my friend zephror! i realized he never got his secret santa from last year. whoever his santa was bailed on him, and i never caught it! i'm so sorry you had to wait this long, zeph, but i hope this surprise fic makes up for it!

Guys Bein' Dudes

Compared to the other cadets, Mikhail was the strongest in most mental calibers. His telekinesis was incomparable. With his perfect grip and control, he could lift anything without breaking a sweat. He even raised Oleander's jeep high above his head to prove to Bobby that he could, the look of humiliation on the other boy's face quite satisfying when Bobby tried and failed to produce the same results.

While he was interested in wrestling the other campers, he already knew how to beat most of them. Some of them provided tricky challenges like Bobby playing dirty, Milka turning invisible, or Phoebe trying to firestart him. But he still knew how to go about defeating them. Wearing goggles, throwing flour, dipping the pyrokinetic in the lake, those tactics would easily win him the match. So, nothing really threw him off guard as the long summer days in Whispering Rock stretched on, and he found himself more interested in finding the elusive hairless bear than attending classes or pursuing any specialized training. (Not that he needed to go. He was an Astral Warrior, after all.)

Though, as he stood in the doorway of the Advanced Kids' cabin, he was baffled. His eyes widened, and his lips parted. Wordlessly, he watched the scene play out before him. Mikhail wondered how the other cadet hadn't sensed his presence as he stood perfectly still like a hungry bear watching a fish carelessly jump up in a stream.

"Aw, man, it's not here," Raz mumbled, his shoulders slouching.

Mikhail took in the sight of Raz holding up the bunk beds with one hand. For a moment, he thought Raz had channeled his psychic power into his hand to hold up the beds, but no, it was purely his physical strength. There wasn't any hint of strain or exhaustion on Raz' face as he set the bunk beds down, a sigh escaping him as he glared down at the little red button tightly clutched in his other hand.

"Where could you fit, you little-?" Raz raised his head as Mikhail stepped inside, his footstep causing the wooden floorboards to creak. "Oh! Hey, Mikhail."

"New boy," Mikhail said, furrowing his brows, "how did you lift beds?"

"That?" Raz glanced back at the bunk beds. "I can bench a lot more than that. They must weigh, what, like a hundred pounds?"

He frowned at Raz' blase answer. Although he could have easily lifted the bunk beds with telekinesis, he found himself glaring down at his arms. Much to his annoyance, they were still skinny despite his wrestling training. He tried keeping his embarrassment to himself despite how his long sleeves fit and shaped them. Rubbing his forearm, he scanned the beds up and down, his eyes widening when he realized a bass drum and a broken set of turntables were on Phoebe and Quentin's cots, considerably adding to the weight of the bunk beds.

"And you lifted them." Mikhail swallowed. "Very easily, too. Impressive."

Raz chuckled, a high-pitched cackle which went through one ear and out the other. "Stuff like that is easy. Since I'm in the circus, I do a lot of heavy lifting with my family. My little brother can almost lift forty pounds, and he's only five."

It took all of Mikhail's willpower to not let his shock show on his face. Raz' claim sounded fake, something made-up for social clout, but with what he had witnessed, Mikhail knew that was an incorrect assumption. The new boy who had broken in to camp was beyond anything Mikhail imagined, and as he edged closer to his own bunk bed, situated right below Lili's, another question came to mind.

"So, you do training? What kind?" Mikhail asked, taking off his hat and setting it on his pillow.

"Sure do. My dad is, uh-" Raz cleared his throat as Mikhail took off his camp shirt, folding it nicely on his bed. "-pretty strict about it. Lots of tumbling and running and strength training since we have to hold each other up during our shows." He rubbed his neck as Mikhail reached up under his shirt. "Though, he doesn't really approve of us training our psychic powers. It's why I came here."

Mikhail hummed. His own parents were fully supportive of him when he started showing signs of being a psychic at the tender age of eight. His father contacted the Russian branch of the Psychonauts as soon as Mikhail began lifting and bending his grandmother's sterling silver spoons. The early intervention helped him master his telekinesis much faster than his peers, allowing him to climb the cadet ranks with ease compared to other cadets who had been in camps like Whispering Rock for many summers.

Glancing back at Raz, he had to wonder why his father would only train his physical body and not his mind. He believed there was a deeper reason, but he also knew it wasn't his place to pry. If Raz wanted to leave it at that when he noticed the other boy glaring at the ground, he nodded and pulled something off his own body which quickly captivated Raz' intrigue.

"Hey, what's that? A sports bra? It looks like my sister's," Raz asked, tilting his head as he came closer.

Mikhail's frown deepened, forming small lines at the corners of his mouth. The implication Raz made dug into his skin as if a curious cub had nipped his arm. Being compared to a girl made him thread his fingers through his short brown hair, something he frequently did when irritated.

"Is my binder. Mikhail wears it for...personal reasons," he said, peering down at Raz out of the corner of his eye. He chose his words carefully to not arouse Raz' suspicion. Having only known him for a few hours, Mikhail wasn't sure if he could come out to him despite him seeming like a perfectly nice boy.

The binder itself was a cool shade of gray and felt a bit damp from it being worn for the past few hours. He had others like it tucked in his luggage underneath his bunk, locked away from curious eyes. Some of the other children in Whispering Rock weren't as accepting as his family, so he maintained his identity through heavy layers of clothing and persistent bouts of masculinity.

"Because you're trans?"

Mikhail jumped a little, his hat slipping from his fingers when he grabbed it. As it rolled off the bed, he stared at Raz with wide eyes, the acrobat grinning up at him knowingly. Blinking away his surprise, he lowered his shoulders, which he hadn't realized raised closer to his ears.

Raz pointed at himself, saying, "Hey, I get it. I'm trans, too. I wear something like that when I train and do other stuff."

Feeling as if a breath of fresh air brushed past him, Mikhail sighed. He had an inkling the new boy was a good kid, but he hadn't anticipated they were the same. Returning Raz' grin with one of his own, he replied, "Ah, Mikhail understands. Very good. Comforting to know we are alike."

"Yeah!" Raz beamed, his smile pressing into his cheeks and making his eyes squint. Turning his attention to Mikhail's binder, he gestured at it with his button. "So, that's different from the bandages I use."

And just like that, Mikhail's shock returned with the full force of a slap to his face. His eyes bulged in his skull, Raz' innocuous statement the catalyst to his horror. He drew back, his fingers itching his scalp, allowing his bafflement to grow in his expression as Raz stared up at him, waiting for an answer.

"You-did you say-?" Mikhail shook his head. "No, Mikhail must have misheard you."

Raz shrugged. "I use bandages. Is something wrong with-?"

"Yes!" Mikhail snapped, coming off as angry rather than worried. Clearing his throat, he lowered his voice. "Is bad. Very dangerous using bandages to bind. You face risk of cracking ribs and harming lungs. Could even compress chest in way that needs surgery."

He flicked his head up, gasping. "Oh! That explains why some of my ribs got broken during my performance a few months ago."

Mikhail looked down at Raz in blank wonder before dragging his hand down his face. Breathing in deeply through his nose, he heaved the air out harshly, his cheeks puffing out as he blew. He gently set his hand on Raz' shoulder and squeezed, saying, "From now on, you will use binder. Is much more effective, breathable, flexible, and less sweaty. Bandages-" Mikhail narrowed his eyes and tightened his grip. "-are very, very bad. Understanding me?"

Raz leaned back, Mikhail's intensity palpable as PSI energy crackled around the sides of his head. He figured Mikhail had a point considering he did injure himself. Although he had taken binding advice from his older brother, who insisted he was right even when Frazie was giving him the stink eye, Mikhail was actually like him. He probably knew more than Dion did when it came to binding, and he snickered, earning a hum from Mikhail as he pulled his hand away to cross his arms.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Thanks, Mikhail." Raz held up the button. "By the way, have you found out where Sasha's secret lab is?"

"Ah, so, that is why you were lifting beds," Mikhail said, reaching down to grab his hat. Setting it on his head, he added, "Not here. Have you tried off-limits forest? Rumored to have abundance of secrets."

Raz gasped and snapped his fingers. "The forest! I haven't gone there yet." Stuffing the button into a flap of his worn backpack, he kicked up dust as he hurried out of the cabin. Over his shoulder, he called, "Bye for now, Mikhail! The next time you see me, I'll be Sasha's star pupil!"

"Good luck, small one," he replied, waving at his backside. Sighing, Mikhail slowly shook his head and thought, _Well, I forgot to challenge him to a wrestling match, but at least I told him to stop using bandages. Hopefully, he'll listen to me, and if not, I'll wrestle him until he submits and agrees. _Folding his binder, he slipped it underneath his blanket and put on his camp shirt. Smoothing down the wrinkles, he left his bunk to continue his search for the hairless bear with renewed vigor.

Later on, after Mikhail's brain was returned because of Raz, he gave him one of his binders, and the sparkle in the newly made Psychonaut's eyes was all the thanks Mikhail needed.


End file.
